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The 


Dead Quickened 

BY 

Mrs. Mary Berry Doyle 



BROADWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
835 Broadway, New York 




Copyright, 19 IS, 

BY 

Broadway Publishing Co. 



©CLA35141 2 

*4/ 


To My 

Eldest Beloved Daughter, 

CALLIE BEL, 

I Dedicate This Book. 











The Dead Quickened 

CHAPTER I. 

Long years ago there lived in a small village, 
near the great centre of the Jewish world (the city 
of Jerusalem), a young man and a maiden fair. 
The two had played together since their earliest 
recollections. Together they had played with other 
children on the village green, and as they grew 
up, it was always understood that they two were 
partners in all their merry games. She was to 
him the one girl, and she admired him most of 
all the boys. So it was they were lovers while yet 
children. Now he had grown to man’s estate, had 
arrived at that age when he was freed from pa- 
rental restraint, and could choose and go his own 
way unhampered, to make or mar his own charac- 
ter as seemeth best to him, for the time being. 

Blessed is he to whom cometh early in life the 
knowledge that he is made in the image and like- 
ness of God, and should behave himself, and shape 
his life according, but alas! some never gain this 
ennobling knowledge, till with their own wilful- 
ness they paint His Image with the stamp of His 
and their greatest enemy — “Personal sins!” But 
this young man was not that kind and had now 
i 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


come to her, the one woman in the world for him, 
to ask her to be his wife and share his lot through 
life. She who had never thought of other men, in 
the capacity of husband to her and had unhesitating- 
ly given her consent to be his bride, blushing at the 
thought that their playlike lovers was a reality, and 
as she answered his ardent question, to be his own 
wife, she had looked up in his strong manly face 
and saw the deep fire of his love burning there, 
and noted the homage his manhood paid to her, 
the real queen of his heart, and as she saw how 
very much he did love her, she all at once felt un- 
worthy in some slight way of the strong man's 
great love. Oh ! if in some way (unknown to her) 
she should prove false to him, and the thought 
made her drop her eyes from his face and she shiv- 
ered as with cold, he seeing and noting every 
change in her lovely speaking face, had been watch- 
ing the color come and go from throat to brow 
like waves of tinted sunshine, and the light in her 
blue eyes glow from within as from some 
hidden fire, lending to them a deeper hue, as his 
words and looks found a receptive place in her 
heart, in its innermost depths, and echoed back 
his message of love with to her unknown intensity 
which waked the gladness in her whole being, and 
sent the blood in mad riot through her veins. He 
had watched the play of her features, and thought 
with the pride of perfect manhood, that he was 
the only one that could have the power ever to 
made her face dim and flush like that, and when 
you might almost say — gloating over the fact, — he 
saw her eyes droop and lovely face pale, and knew 
that something was passing through her mind 
that was in some way antagonistic to his heart’s 
best wishes, and placing his hand beneath her 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


rounded chin, raised her face to his and kissed her, 
saying at the same time she did love him true, 
and not to say “nay” as that would kill him : 

But the act had fully restored her spirits and 
she was her own merry, happy self again, her 
young girlishness reasserting itself, she laughed like 
the sound of gurgling waters, and said she guessed 
something must have walked on her grave (there is 
an old superstition that cold chills runs over one’s 
body when an animal walks over the place where 
one is to be buried). The thought that she would 
ever have to be buried saddened him a moment, 
but her light laugh was pleasant to his ear, and it 
passed off. But little did they think that trouble 
lurked in their pathway, and that he in his inner- 
consciousness struck at the very shadow that was 
to darken their lives and make them both wanderers 
and one of them an outcast. For as “coming 
events do sometimes cast their shadows before” a 
ghost of trouble had stalked across their path just 
as they were the most blissfully happy, and check- 
ing for a moment only their perfect happiness. Oh ! 
(she thought) not love him as he deserves to be 
loved? Him whom she had always thought would 
be her real lover and husband some day, and had 
not her whole being, heart, mind and body, her 
very life itself just acknowledged him its master? 
No ! she could never love another like that, no one 
else could have that kind of power over her. No, 
it would never be that come between them, never! 
So they bridged over the ugly spot and talked of 
other happier things of the time when at an enter- 
tainment given at her father’s house they would 
be publicly betrothed and he would proclaim her his 
choice to the world — their world — the friends and 
neighbors of the little village around them, and he 
3 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


would go now to her father and ask him for her 
hand. It would be no surprise to the village folk, 
for every one had long known he loved the girl and 
thought she loved him and also thought they knew 
that when he came of age and was free to do so, 
they would be married and live among them. They 
knew the very little house surrounded with its 
vines and garden plot wherein this loved and hon- 
ored couple would make their own home, and light 
the fire on their own hearth and build their own 
family altar. In God’s own plan. The two be 
made one. Oh ! the pity of it when some evil hand 
ruthlessly strikes across the cord or rather into it, 
and destroys God’s beautiful harmony — that which 
makes earth an Eden, this world a Paradise to fit 
us for a “Home not made with hands, eternal in 
the Heavens.” ? Little did these joyous young folks 
ken the dark days in store for them. Ah ! did they 
not, in their inner consciousness feel that all would 
not be as they wished it? A premonition of some 
evil that lurked in the distance? Did it not come 
to them as an echo of their perfect happiness ? Not 
that it had the power to interfere in the least with 
their present happy state. Not now — but in the 
dim future had the power to even now make their 
hearts quake, for a moment at times, when they 
each would be alone, but when together they 
thought not of future troubles, but of the heart’s 
glad harmony the present yielded. Now the sun- 
shine of their united loves was lighting their lives. 
Then why should trouble come to them? Did not 
their friends all around them come together and 
get married and live on, happy and contented ? Why 
not them? And let trouble come, were they not 
strong in each other’s holy love to resist it ? What 
real harm could come to them ? But should it come 
4 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


between them. Ah! then it would be hard to bear. 
,But “Time that waits for no man/’ not even when 
fhe is in love, rolled on golden wings till the night 
of the entertainment. The time looked forward to 
with happy anticipation by two at least of this blest 
community. How the maiden’s cheeks glowed with 
perfect health, and the love light in her eyes deep- 
ening their color and liquifying their depths, giving 
to her that transcendent beauty that is only for 
those whose hearts are full or overflowing with 
love for the one person on earth for them. Espe- 
cially did her beauty attract and keep her lover 
near her, as much as possible. He could appreciate 
her changing color far more than all the others, 
for was she not his very own? He had given his 
very soul into her care and keeping, and in ex- 
change claimed her heart, mind and body his own, 
“Woman,” that God had given to him, “Man.” 
His last and best gift. Henceforth they two were 
eternally joined, for the link of love is stronger 
than the bond of matrimony. Should they never 
be married in the social, civil or Ecclesiastical way, 
they were already married in soul, hence eternally 
united by God’s Law, that of pure, innocent love 
for each other, planted by God’s Will in the hearts 
of mankind. She had developed. He was filled, 
as God had planned it to be in the beginning. Little 
did they dream that this night was to be the be- 
ginning of trouble for them, and long, dark days 
instead of the happy ones they had looked forward 
to, of the sleepless nights in store of them. 


5 


CHAPTER II. 


“a cloud no larger than a man's hand.” 

Late in the afternoon he was called away to the 
bedside of an uncle whom he found so very ill 
that he could not get away until far into the night. 
Too late to go to her home that night. She not 
knowing he would not be there until late when his 
short and hurried note came telling her of his being 
suddenly called to his uncle's bedside but “would 
get back if possible” to be there in time. She had 
waited for some time for him, having dressed early 
with the assurance of the loved that he would be 
the first to arrive and they would have some few 
minutes alone before the others gathered. But, 
alas for human expectations. She was doomed 
to disappointment. Although her love was just as 
strong, she pitied herself and in her great disap- 
pointment blamed him and not the cause. So the 
seeds of anger arid discontent were rankling in her 
heart, and do what she would she could not dis- 
pel that feeling, although she knew well enough 
it was unjust to feel so. All that was needed to 
destroy her peace of mind was for some evil hand 
to ruthlessly smite the chords and destroy all their 
harmony. And it has been said, “Man's extremity 
is God’s opportunity.” So it is that Man’s disap- 
pointment and the accompanying discontent is Sa- 
tan’s time to do his evil works. And, as is usually 
the case, he found bis tools ready to hand. It was 
found in the person of a young, very self-possessed 
6 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


man from the city, who was the “catch” of the 
evening. Her heart being sore and discontented, 
she thought to amuse herself and pass the time 
more pleasantly too, at the same time be revenged 
for her lover’s unexpected absence, and so smiled 
and encouraged the young stranger. 

She being the prettiest girl in the room, as well 
as the young hostess, he centered all his attentions 
on her and although she never for one moment 
forgot her love for the one man on earth for her, 
she was amused and flattered too by the young 
stranger’s attention, but he knew he could have 
no real hold on her heart, and in his jealous rage 
he resolved to make trouble for the man she loved. 
So he went to work to subtly poison her mind, if 
possible, against him, her lover. He thought if he 
could destroy her love for the other man he could, 
he flattered himself, make her really care for him, 
not that he wanted the pure love of these two peo- 
ple to be his own, but that through her love for 
him, should he gain it, and he had not a doubt but 
he could if circumstances favored him, he would 
drag her down to his own immoral level. So he 
went to work to “drive a nail in the other man’s 
coffin” as it were. He asked her if she liked fair 
haired men, saying at the same time he admired 
fair haired girls best, and that he believed it was 
commonly admitted that people admired their op- 
posite sex to be of the same color of eyes and hair 
as themselves. 

She looked at him and thought he certainly was 
handsome and was one of her own complexion — 
fair haired and blue eyed, and thought with a 
shock her own lover was exactly her opposite in 
the matter. She had not thought of this before. 

He saw his words had the desired effect and 

7 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


followed it up with another dart still more poison- 
ous than the first. 

“Now, there is your friend (naming her lover), 
I’ll wager anything he admires dark-haired, brown- 
eyed girls the most. There is the black-haired girl, 
the daughter of the uncle, her lover had gone to 
see, she is not my kind.” 

It so happened that this cousin was a favorite of 
her lover’s; they were chums in the perfect sense 
of the word. They were “friends” and no more 
thought of the lover between them than brother 
and sister. They were congenial companions and 
that was all. She felt that this fascinating man 
was reading her thoughts and determined to be 
brave and not let him see that she had even for one 
little moment doubted her lover’s love to her, and 
trying to hide her feelings under an assumed care- 
lessness said, “Oh, well, all are not that way.” 

He replied, “Maybe not all, but nine-tenths are; 
we will test this and I will show you that others 
are of like tastes. Now let’s see, to-morrow night 
we meet again at (mentioning a friend’s house) 
for the birthday party and we will ask any or all 
of them if it is not so, your friend, for instance. 
I’ll wager anything if asked who of their friends 
he thought prettiest he would say his cousin. She 
thought of their own experience in love-making. 
She knew he did love her as he could none other, 
and when he returned to her, all would be well as 
it had been. But the poison had entered her heart, 
nevertheless, and ever and anon would not be 
downed. She slept little that night, until nearly 
day, she fell into a sound sleep and waked in the 
morning refreshed, but felt as though she had 
had a bad dream. Then she thought of the con- 
versation she had with the city man the night be- 
8 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


fore and of her awful disappointment at her lover’s 
absence, and in her gloom saw all her bright cas- 
tles tumble to the ground. Then she would take 
herself to task and say, “That was all foolishness 
she knew, and when he came back she would be 
all right and all would be bright and sweet again. 
But when he did come in the afternoon of the 
next day to tell her how much he was put out and 
disappointed to go away at such a time, but he 
thought his uncle was dying, he had been taken so 
sudden and he was called in such haste, and did 
not dare to take time to come and tell her him- 
self, all which she knew was true. But she felt 
cross at him for the first time in all their happy 
lives before, and to save her life she could not help 
showing it. And as he spoke in such glowing terms 
of his cousin’s tender care and attention to his 
uncle, her heart almost died within her at the 
thought of his praising this girl so much, and she, 
her opposite in nearly every way. So the seeds of 
jealousy grew apace. He felt there was something 
amiss, and went away discontented and ill at ease, 
and left her more than ever so. Alas! the little 
rift that if corrected in time would forever put a 
stop to all trouble of this kind, and make glowing 
sunshine and sweet felicity, where all is darkness 
was kept open and the breach widened instead of 
being mended. He had said when he went away he 
would come and take her to the party that night. 
She went off to herself and had a big cry, and af- 
terwards she felt calmer and thought how foolish 
she had acted, and felt glad that he was to come 
for her. It would give her an opportunity to make 
amends for the way she had acted in the morning. 
She would confess all her ugly thoughts to him, 
and he would cheer and comfort her. Then all 
9 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


would be well. So she did all her household duties 
and dressed herself early so as to be her bright self 
again when he would come for her, and they would 
have ample time for her little explanation, and a 
sweet confidential talk together, ere they would 
start for the house of their mutual friends. But as 
Fate would have it so, he was unavoidably de- 
tained at his own home and was late in getting to 
hers. And they must hurry more than both would 
have liked to get there in time. This made her 
cross all over again with him, and was tempted to 
stay home altogether, but fear of what others 
would say spurred her to go on. Had she stayed 
as the dictates of her heart advised all might have 
been well and all the sorrow that was to come have 
been avoided. But the “course of their true love 
was doomed not to run smoothly,” and she went, 
her foolish anger towards him made her moody 
and not her old bright self. He was at a loss to 
understand why, and as ’tis usually the way with 
men, no matter how deep their love may be, he 
sulked, instead of taking her in his arms and to 
his strong manly breast, and having her tell him 
what the matter was, which would have ended all 
their petty troubles, which nevertheless had the 
power to make her poor heart ache, little as they 
may seem. But he failed to do so and their eve- 
ning was spoiled, even had nothing else occurred 
to make it so. But long ere they arrived the city 
stranger was there all smiles and bows, exquisitely 
dressed in a garb that set off his blond beauty to 
perfection, and had the tendency to make all the 
other young men seem dowdily dressed. And even 
in her overwrought state of feelings, she noticed 
that he was indeed handsome. This not the detri- 
ment of her own loved, although she was angry at 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


him in some inexplainable way. He was her heart’s 
idol still. And none other could have the power 
to make her miserable as she was now, much less 
to fill her whole heart and mind with himself as he 
did. It was her very love for him that made her 
angry with him, and in her strong loyal heart never 
once thought of comparing him (this man) to her 
lover. She had never thought of him as being 
handsome. He had strong manly beauty in a way. 
But she did not love him for that. He was strong 
and masterful and to her none other could be like 
him. Therefore she could see that the other man 
was handsome without in the least affecting her 
heart. From the time she entered the room he was 
her most devoted swain and shadow all the entire 
evening. This marred her lover’s pleasure even 
more than her temper had done. He talked with 
others to cover his displeasure and restlessness; 
they almost ran him wild with tantalizing him about 
allowing his rival to pay so much attention to his 
sweetheart, and in their innocence simply tortured 
him. But the city man’s coolness gave him the ad- 
vantage over the lover, and he managed to get 
up the discussion and asked the lover which he ad- 
mired most “blonde or brunette,” and he, in his 
blind anger, thinking only of his adversary’s blond 
beauty, said “he could not abide white-haired, blue- 
eyed people,” and turning strode wrathfully out of 
the room. Soon she complained of being tired and 
wished to go home. The lover was out of the room 
but she would not have asked him had he been 
there. No, never! not after that declaration yet 
she knew deep down in her heart why he had ex- 
pressed himself that way, and had not thought of 
her when he spoke. But like a poor wounded dove 
she was stricken down, and had to admit that the 
ii 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


man had her own lover’s evidence in the matter. 
But what was she to do ? He suggested taking her 
home and she gladly allowed him to lead her away, 
scarcely having mind enough to bid her hostess 
good night. 


/ 


12 


CHAPTER III. 


GOES DOWN INTO THE DARKNESS OF THE GRAVE. 

So out into the darkness of the night they went, 
she so utterly miserable that she scarcely knew 
what she was doing, and before she hardly knew 
what she was saying, he had gained her consent to 
go with him to the city and remain with his mother 
a few days until she would be more calm and 
herself. Then she could come back and all would 
be well. So unsophisticated was she, that in her 
own mind she never once thought that there could 
be any wrong in doing this, and so ran away from 
the one man in the world to her, thinking in her 
dumb-stricken heart how sorry he would be when 
he found she was gone* and realized it was his 
own words that had driven her from him. Then 
she knew down deep in her heart he did really care 
for her and would come for her soon himself and 
they would “kiss and make up again.” So she went 
of her own accord and her own volition out into 
the Dark World, that world she had thought so 
bright, glad and free before, but now she was to 
find it filled to overflowing of sin and woe. We do 
not nor cannot know all she suffered in that world, 
unless we had walked in the same path and felt 
the same shut-out pangs. No, no! none but the 
angels that guarded her soul could tell of all she did 
undergo ere the last low degraded stage was 
reached. Could we know even a little of the curse 
she had to endure we might stop and pity where we 
13 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


had passed on by and blamed, only thinking in our 
ignorance of the provocations that had caused their 
downfall, that they had brought it all on them- 
selves, and deserved not our forbearance, much 
less our pity. We have seen how heavy seeming 
troubles clouded her bright life, how heavy must 
have been the real ones to her loving tender heart. 
Only the pitying Father of All could know. How 
the longing to once again be on the other side of 
this great boundless gulf, where her father, lover 
and friend were the very thought of all she had 
eternally lost, must have been maddening to so sen- 
sitive a heart. Nor is there any wonder that she 
would plunge into one dissipation after another in 
order to still the terrible remorse. Not caring if 
each plunge did sink her deeper into the awful 
slough of sin and death. 


14 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE GRAVE DEEPENS. 

So at last we find her, an ignoble outcast on the 
streets of that great city (which God himself had 
deigned once to make his abode). One day she had 
been ruthlessly dragged by great strong men, 
roughly handled by men who should have cared 
for and protected the weak as much as they could 
her or any of God’s creatures. They who called 
themselves “Fathers in Israel.” “She was to be 
stoned” they said, according to Moses’ Law, and 
they in their blind bigotry thought to tempt One 
whom they despised for His very truthfulness, and 
because they feared Him and His influence. But 
they had brought her before the Judge of Men, 
and of Right and Wrong, and not of the weak and 
already suffering of God’s creatures. When He 
had them wait — they, the great officers who en- 
forced the law in Israel, wait a sufficient time for 
His answer, He looked up and said, “Let him that 
is without sin cast the first stone.” How astonished 
they must have been, this mere Pretender, to not 
only keep them waiting, but to have the presump- 
tion to accuse them. But when it finally dawned on 
them, they were small even in their own sight, 
compared to this man whom they had thought to 
astound and put to confusion. I think in all the 
history of His life as God-Man on this earth, 
there is not a more Godlike thing recorded of Him 
than this He had said to these men. No wonder 
15 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


they slipped away like whipped dogs found killing 
sheep. Oh, the power of convicted sin — found 
out! That was what they were, and knew it. It 
was their sin and not hers, held up to them in the 
pure light of God’s Everlasting Truth. How the 
woman’s heart must have stopped its beating and 
her body grow icy cold and a sickening feeling come 
over her that almost made her sink to the ground 
with apprehension. If He judged men with such 
Righteous and totally convincing judgment, what 
would be her judgment from Him. Imagine her 
convulsed feelings when after He had looked up 
again after such an interminable time and said to 
her, “Woman, where are these thine accusers, hath 
no man condemned thee ?” and she answered 
scarcely above a whisper, “No man, Lord,” and 
bowed her head to receive her condemnation, for 
she had expected nothing else. Her imagination 
busy with conjectures only of how, and in what way 
He would condemn her. Imagine her surprise 
when in His own calm compassionate way He had 
said to her, “Neither do I condemn thee. Go thy 
way and sin no more.” Ah! could she ever sin 
again with that gentle rebuke ringing in her mind, 
whispering always in her ears and working mira- 
cles in her heart? She was staggering away, car- 
ing not where. Her thoughts full of all that had 
just transpired. But strongly was the thought up- 
permost that He had hot condemned her. 


16 


CHAPTER V. 


THE WIND IS TEMPERED TO THE SHORN LAMB. 

She felt a light touch on her arm and turning to 
see who it was, saw a kindly face and heard a 
voice saying, “Come, I will help you to “Sin no 
more.” This Godly woman had stood close by and 
watched the whole proceedings, and resolved to 
help her. So, taking her by the hand, she led her 
away, and from Jerusalem, the scenes of her sins, 
sorrow and degradation, and into her own home in 
a distant city, where she would be freed from the 
environments of her former shame, and be allowed 
to recuperate her natural moral strength. 

Can we not imagine the sincere gratitude and 
respect she would always have for her benefactor, 
and how, day and night, she tried to obliterate the 
signs of that awful life she had now quit forever. 
In how many, many ways of little kindly attentions 
she showed her kind mistress how much she ap- 
preciated all she had done for her. She knew it 
was impossible for her to ever be able to repay the 
tenth part of all she owed to this kind-hearted 
woman. But the great compassionate heart of the 
old woman felt more than repaid for the part she 
had taken in the matter in seeing her protege trying 
to wipe out the old life, and in her gratitude too, 
was balm for. her old heart. It was good to know 
that her efforts were appreciated in such a thorough 
manner. Now in this quiet, sinless life she would 
sometimes think of the old lost life of purity in 
1 7 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


maidenhood’s innocence, and the lover who had 
shared that life with her. She had told her noble 
old friend the story of her life ere the serpent had 
entered their Eden. Her kind old heart ached at 
the cruel wrong that had been done both to man and 
maid. The wronged woman thought of her one- 
time lover as going back to the old life and forget- 
ting in honest care the one who had proved so 
false — to his and her own better natures. She 
thought now of the shadow that had made her 
heart cower at the very time of its blissful awaken- 
ing. Oh! had she known then some of the things 
that she knew now, she need not have suffered for 
she would not have been so easily led away. She 
now realized how she had missed a mother’s care all 
her life. But the kind, compassionate words of 
Christ had taught her the power within her to break 
away from sin and the terrible life she had led as 
no amount of fear could have done. She, too, real- 
ized how much easier it was to accomplish sheltered 
and sustained by this noble old friend whom God 
had given her at the right time. Now she would 
think of the old ugly sinful life with a shudder at 
her escape. Oft in the night she would awaken and 
wonder if it was true. “Am I forever rid of that 
hateful life?” or is it only a dream? Then she 
would think, No, it is real and I am never to suffer 
while I live but what of the after-life, shall I not 
then suffer for the sins done in this body. For now 
in her aroused and fully awakened state she real- 
ized that although she was kindly treated and cared 
for in this home, that all she could do could not 
wash from her soul the stain there. For she had 
sunken down to the lowest depths possible, and 
must account to God for her misdeeds. She realized 
she was under the ban of God’s almighty wrath, 
18 


THE DE'AD QUICKENED 


and no amount of good conduct could eradicate the 
guilt from her soul. Just what she knew she had 
caused and felt was enough to condemn her be- 
fore God. It was true Jesus had not condemned 
her, but that was only for this little life. She was 
meek and lowly now, and that attitude more than 
any other, was calculated to please her benefac- 
tress more than any other, for it proved how sin- 
cerely repentant she was. But of her lover and 
what his life was after she left him, she knew 
nothing and dared not try to find out. 


19 


CHATER VI. 


DAYS OF SUFFERING FOR THE LOVER. 

But the one-time lover had rallied from the 
shock her infidelity had given him, only to find 
himself a changed man. He was continually 
gloomy, lost interest in everything. It worried him 
and made him almost despise himself because he 
could not tear the love for her from his heart, 
though he knew her to be so unworthy of his sac- 
red, holy love. The old life grew more hateful 
to him every day. So at last he threw it up and 
thought he would follow her, and see if the sight 
of her in shame would not uproot the very thought 
of love for her from his mind and heart. His very 
soul seemed dead within him, and what mattered 
it any way. So he found her, without her knowl- 
edge of his presence, surrounded by richly attired 
men and women she seemingly the gayest of the 
gay. Yes, yes! that picture would forever tear 
from the memory of his lost love from his heart. 
How could he retain love for such a person? Yet 
as he stood watching her he noted the hollows in 
her once rounded and beautiful cheek, and noticed 
the hollow sound of her once happy laughter. “Sin 
furrows the fairest brow.” He thought with pity 
of the assumed gaiety that belongs to a life of 
sin and shame. No real lasting joy could come 
from such a life. But she had chosen this in pref- 
erence to a life with him. Let her live it out to 
the bitter end. Henceforth his would be a life 
20 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


apart. He would wander up and down and find 
contentment in change. But he would go out of the 
city where she lived in shame. So he wandered 
off to many places, seeking peace of mind, but it 
came not. So one day he found himself with a 
great many others at the banks of Jordan, watching 
John baptize in the River, and heard him tell the 
people to repent and be baptized “for the Kingdom 
of Heaven was at hand.” While he listened to those 
words, he thought within himself, I have no sins 
to repent of, this then cannot mean me. I have 
done no wrong, but have been terribly wronged and 
it is a righteous hatred that I bear toward the one 
that has so cruelly deceived and injured me, he 
who stole away my life’s happiness and made me a 
wanderer upon the face of the earth. It can be no 
sin to hate one’s enemies, such as he. But he af- 
terwards asked John what he meant by those strange 
words to all the people about Repentance of sin 
and the Kingdom of Heaven coming. John the 
Baptist told him “It was to be sorry for sin and 
turn away from it, and the Kingdom of Heaven 
meant, Peace on earth, Good Will toward men. 
Man’s unity with God. But that he was only as 
a voice of one crying in the wilderness. To pre- 
pare the way for one that was to come after him, 
one who was so much greater than he, that he 
was not worthy to do Him the lowliest service. 
That when He was come, He would tell them all 
things, for He was sent from God to do so. Then 
he pondered in his own heart at these things and 
thought, Am I a sinner such as these that come 
daily to John to be baptized in the river Jordan 
repenting of their sins ? No, that cannot be, I am 
sinned against truly, but I commit no sin. This 
21 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


warning is not for me nor such as I. 
surcease from trouble to watch the 
came and went day after day, 


But it was a 
crowds that 


22 


CHAPTER VII. 


"the light that lighteth the world/' 

One day while he amused himself by studying 
the different kinds of people that came and went, 
he was attracted by hearing the Great Prophet say, 
"Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins 
of the world. He it is of whom I said, though com- 
ing after me is preferred before me, "whose shoe 
latchet I am not worthy to unloose/' Then he 
thought in his mind, This, then is the one whom 
John said to me, He is sent from God and will tell 
us all things. But as he sat watching them he 
saw Jesus go down into the water of Jordan to be 
baptized of John. Then thought he, No, this can- 
not be He for surely one sent from God could have 
no sins to repent of. But as he sat, still watching 
the movements of the two, he heard a great voice 
as of the mighty thunder and looked up just over 
the head of the One who had just been baptized 
and was coming up out of the water, He saw a 
cloud and out of the cloud saw a form in the shape 
of a dove descending on Him and heard a voice 
from the cloud saying: "This is my Beloved Son 
in whom I am well pleased.” Then he knew he 
must be the one sent from God and would tell us 
all things. But soon after the Baptism the Son of 
God disappeared, and he lost sight of Him. But he 
still followed John. For it interested him to watch 
the events that daily transpired. He almost for- 
got his sorrow, he was so much interested in the 
23 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


events going on ; in John’s ministry ; in hearing 
him say to the crowds that came to him to be bap- 
tized, “Oh, ye Generation of Vipers, who hath 
warned you to flee from the wrath to come.” And 
when they would ask him what they must do to 
be saved, he told them “to be contented with their 
wages, to take nothing that did not belong to them. 
To exact only which was right,” and the many, 
many other things he preached unto them. But in 
none of this could he apply to himself. So when 
he heard that Jesus, too, was baptizing he left John 
and followed Jesus, and was with him when John’s 
messenger came and asked “If he was indeed the 
Christ or were they to look for another still.” He 
heard Jesus tell them to “go back to John in prison 
and tell him of all they saw him do, and heard 
him say. To tell him that the blind received their 
sight. The lame walked. The lepers were cleansed. 
The deaf heard. The dead were raised. The poor 
had the Gospel preached to them.” And after they 
had returned to John Jesus then told them of 
John’s mission and said, “he was the Greatest of 
Prophets.” The man heard the Sermon on the 
Mount wherein Jesus, as he taught, seemed to show 
each one his or her weakness and special sin, and 
to gladden the lowly and down-trodden ones by 
his words of encouragement. To point out the way 
the Father had taught from time immemorial. But 
the people being blinded by their own ways lost 
sight of God’s way. So the young man thought 
it was no strange wonder that the people flocked to 
hear this Jesus. It is the truth this man preached 
that attracts so many to him as well as his healing 
draws the sick, lame and blind. But what is this 
he says about resisting the evil : “If my enemy strike 
me on one side of my face, I am to let him strike 
24 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


on the other side.” This is indeed hard Doctrine, 
and if one ask me for my coat, I am to give him 
my cloak also? And again if your righteousness 
does not exceed the righteousness of the Scribes 
and Pharisees, you shall in no wise enter into the 
Kingdom of Heaven. Why, if they the Fathers of 
Israel are not good enough, who then can be saved? 
Then again he teaches us, We must love our ene- 
mies and do good to them that dispitefully use us, 
and pray for them, too. Am I to pray for the 
man that wrecked my life and that took from me 
the purest and best woman God ever gave to man, 
and wrecked both our lives? Do good to this arch 
enemy? That I can never do. That would indeed 
exceed all righteousness, for even the Rabbis could 
not do so. Any one would think it right to hate 
such an enemy. And this man teaches I must for- 
give those who have sinned against me. I forgive 
the man who has torn away my very heart strings? 
And in what way have I sinned that I should ask 
the Father to forgive me ?” Thus he reasoned with 
himself, of all he had heard both John and Jesus 
say. He thought to himself, all that is left for me 
to do is to hate this man, and I must do that as 
long as we both live. So he pondered this way on 
all that touched his life and trouble. But when he 
looked on the calm, Divine, patient face of Jesus, 
he thought surely He lives the life He teaches, and 
it is worth a great deal to be like him if it were pos- 
sible. He felt this more and more as he followed 
Him day after day trying always to get a crumb 
of comfort for his own tortured and aching heart. 
But he almost forgot his own pain in seeing so 
many others healed. To see the vile leper made 
whole with a touch from the Divine hand, the blind 
see for the first time. All this was interesting be- 
25 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


yond description. Most of all he loved to listen to 
the man's discourses. He made things so plain that 
it was a pleasure to understand at times, then again 
he could not understand, for instance, He told one 
man, Nicodemus “He must be born again," none 
understood this. But he said “You must be born 
again or ye can in no wise enter into the Kingdom 
of Heaven. “Of all these things he thought to 
himself. But often he saw that Jesus was capable 
of doing those things Himself. That he preached 
to others, once, for instance, they wished to stop 
at a little village of Samaria, and was not allowed 
to do so. And the Disciples wished to call down 
fire from Heaven and destroy them for their fool- 
hardiness. But Jesus said in that kind and compas- 
sionate way all His own, “The Son of Man has not 
come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them." 
Oh, how beautiful the young man thought, must be 
the heart and mind of one to conceive such an an- 
swer. How pure and holy the man to forgive such 
abuse. So he continued to follow Jesus, day after 
day, ever keeping close enough to hear all He said, 
for his own mind was soothed by the sweet com- 
panionship of Jesus. The more he stayed near 
Him, the more he began to feel that his own life 
was not all it should be. and began to feel ashamed 
of the bitter hatred he had in his heart for the man 
who had indeed done him an irreparable injury 
and lasting wrong. Then he began to think, is it 
not posible to live above these things, and believe 
it possible, with Jesus, teaching always before him, 
to forget his own sorrow for all time, and thought 
seriously at such times of asking Jesus to give him 
some work to do that he might rise above himself, 
and help to do some good. 


26 


CHAPTER VIII. 


FACE TO FACE — “HE IS ABLE TO FORGIVE 
US OUR SINS/' 

About this time one day Jesus and His Disciples 
were in a house, healing all the throngs that came 
to Him, some with just a word, others with just 
a touch of His Divine hand was sufficient to heal 
the worst disease. In the midst of all this they 
heard a noise overhead, and looking up saw the 
roof open* and something descending through the 
opening, found it was some men lowering a bed 
on which lay some one, and when it reached the 
floor it was seen to be a man sick of the palsy. 
The frame of the poor man lay quivering before 
the Divine Healer, and pleading eyes looked into 
His. And Jesus in His Divinity knew why he 
was there, knew the very sin that had lain him so 
low; and looking up at the men who had done so 
much to bring this poor wreck of manhood into 
His presence, He commended their faith, and look- 
ing on the man, poor wretch, at His feet, said in 
that same compassionate and gentle way He had 
shown so often, “Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.” 
Then there arose certain questionings among cer- 
tain scribes who were there, who were merely 
jealous of this meek and lowly man’s power, and 
thought to show their own knowledge of Moses’ 
written laws* as they understood it. Had they un- 
derstood this, God’s law, they would have known 
Jesus as the Son of God and believed on Him. 

27 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


The young man standing near heard not a word of 
all this, except the words of Christ. These words 
and the gentle tone in which they were spoken, 
echoed and reverberated in his brain. For right 
here before him lay the wretched and sin-cursed 
(his and the pure sweet girl’s he had loved, and 
yet loved still, in spite of all) arch enemy. But, 
oh! so defaced and deformed, that only the eyes 
of hate or love that is strong as life, could know. 
There he lay, and he who had been so cruelly 
wronged could pity his condition, and seeing him 
thus thought, “Has not my wrong been avenged, 
even as much as I could have wished it’ and with- 
out my having lain a hand on him? Truly the 
wages of sin are indeed death.” But the poor, 
trembling wretch had neither eyes nor ears for any 
but the kindly voice and face of Jesus. 

Forgive him his sins? Did or could He know 
how great they were? Yes, He had seen him in 
the deepest depths of His being, and saw all the 
sin and suffering there, and knowing all this could 
call him by the endearing name of “Son.” But 
what he read in the face of Jesus filled his soul 
with light. He felt free, and wanted to praise 
God. His old sin and sickness seemed to fall from 
him like a cloak that had been loosed. Then Jesus, 
knowing the minds of the people discussing Him, 
turned to them and said, “Which is easier to say to 
the sick? Thy sins be forgiven thee, or to say, 
Arise, take up thy bed and walk? But that ye 
may know the Son of Man hath power on earth 
to forgive sin also. 

He then turned to the sick man with majestic 
power, born of the spirit of God within Him, “I 
say unto thee arise, take up thy bed and go thy 
way into thine house.” The one addressed arose 
quickly, as if electrified, and began to do*as Christ 
28 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


had told him to do. And as he turned to find his 
way out, he came face to face with the man whom 
he felt he had wronged more than any other. He 
dropped his bedding and held out his hands, now 
fully restored to their natural firmness, and said: 

“Can, oh, can you , too, forgive me? It was 
all I. She did not know. I alone am to blame. 
She loved yo'u through it all, poor child. But He, 
this Man of God, has forgiven me and can you? 
Can you, too, forgive the wretch that I was?” 

Just at this moment he turned his eyes on Jesus, 
and saw such passionate sympathy and pleading in 
His face, and taking the outstretched hands and 
said, “Yes, I forgive you, as I hope to be forgiven. 
Turned and bowed himself at Jesus' feet and said, 
“Master, I too have need to be forgiven.” Jesus 
took him by the hands, raised him up, and said: 
“Thy sin, too, is forgiven. Go in peace.” 

Peace! was there ever such blessed peace before 
as now filled his soul with gladness? Oh, the joy 
of it! Was it not worth all he had suffered? Yea, 
and more. This sweet peace that had irradiated 
his soul with light. That cast out all darkness 
and pain? Oh how glad this heart within him. 
He wanted to sing songs long forgotten, then 
come to him, as if by magic, and he sang as never 
before, “Oh! Glory to God in the Highest.” He 
shouted, “Oh! this is peace on earth, Heaven in 
my soul, yes, and good will toward men. Yes, I 
can love my enemies. God is good and great, praise 
His holy name.” 

Oh! how it must have filled the dear Christ's 
heart with praises to the Father, to be the means 
of freeing these souls. What cared He what the 
people thought and said, He was about His Fath- 
er's business, and was well paid for the service. 


29 


CHAPTER IX. 


“the new life.” 

These two went each their separate ways, both 
crowned with God’s eternal glory, their souls freed 
from the bondage of sin, living now in God’s 
blessed light, their only wish to do that which was 
right and follow in Christ’s lead and spread the 
glad tidings of His power to save from sin and 
distress. One went to his own house to use his 
own means in doing good as best he might. The 
other was pleased to remain near the Savior, and 
listen to his teaching. He could better understand 
their significance now. 

One day Jesus and His Disciples were invited 
to dine at Simon’s, a Pharisee’s house, in the city 
of Capernaum, but this being near the lovers’ old 
home he had gone out there the night before to 
visit the old friends and tell them of the won- 
derful things Jesus had done. 

THE DEAD LIVES — THE LOST IS FOUND. 

“They look into His face , and their faces were 
not ashamed .” In the city of Capernaum lived the 
kind old woman who had “that day” in Jerusalem 
taken to her home the woman to whom Jesus said, 
“Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.” 
She has been kindly sheltered and cared for all 
these days, but of her old home and loved ones 
she had not dared to inquire, and does not know 
one thing of. One bright’ beautiful day, her old 
30 


THE DEAD QUICKEN ED 


friend had been out in the city and came home 
beaming with joy. She had seen Jesus, and said 
that Jesus was in the city and was that day to dine 
at Simon’s, the Pharisee’s house. She had seen 
Him with her own eyes, but could not get near 
enough to speak to Him for the throng of people 
that came to Him to be healed of Him. The young 
woman told her friend she would like so much to 
see and speak to Him, and tell Him how she had 
done as He bade her, and to thank Him for all He 
had done for her “that day.” So her old kind and 
generous friend told her to go. “But it would be 
best to wait until the hour of dinner, and avoid 
the crowd,” and also said, “I will give you a box 
of precious ointment, take it and pour it on His 
head, then you may tell Him what is in thine heart 
to say.” 

So when the hour arrived she took her alabaster 
box of precious ointment and went her way to the 
house of Simon, and straight to the chamber where 
they were already at the table. She looked and 
immediately recognized Jesus. She had hardly 
seen Him “that day” so long ago, but she knew 
none other bore that same kindly look. And as she 
stood looking at him, all that day's sinfulness and 
sorrow rose up before her, and she felt as she had 
not felt before the greatness of His being, and 
now she felt too poor and humble to pour the oint- 
ment on His head, but her great love and devo- 
tion constrained her to draw near Him, and when 
she did at last reach his presence she no longer 
felt abashed, but got as low down as she could 
above His precious feet, took the box, and break- 
ing it, she poured the precious perfume on His 
feet, filling the house with its sweet fragrance, 
and now she looked up. He was talking, and of 
31 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


her, too. Now her very soul gives attention. She 
hardly breathes. It is the same voice that said 
unto her that day “Woman, where are these, thine 
accusers?” This voice that had had the power to 
still into awful silence these fathers and make them 
slip away from His presence, condemned by their 
own guilty conscience, and even sitting at His 
feet as she was, she shrank away into herself and 
sat there as if all ears, only to hear that Voice. 
It was bliss beyond compare; just to be allowed to 
sit at His feet and listen to Him was enough. But 
what is He saying? Surely talking of her, for she 
hears Him answer something Simon had said. 
“Thou hast judged rightly.” Then he turned to 
her and said to Simon, “Seest thou this woman? 
I entered into thine house. Thou gavest me 
no water for my feet, but she hath washed my 
feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 
Thou gavest me no kiss, but this woman, since the 
time she came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. 
My head with oil thou didst not anoint. This 
woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. 
Wherefore I say unto thee, her sins, which are 
many ; are forgiven, for she hath loved much. 
But to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth lit- 
tle.” Then He turned to her and looked into her 
astonished face and said, “Thy sins are forgiven.” 

Then all her old wretchedness seemed to fall 
from her. Oh, the joy and peace, sweet peace that 
possessed her now. Her load of sin and sorrow 
lifted from her. Free! Oh, so free. She could stand 
now and face the world. She stood up with clasped 
hands and looked on Jesus, the light of her coun- 
tenance transfiguring her into an angel of light. 
She looked at the crowd gazing on her enraptured 
face and radiantly smiled on them. She cried al- 
32 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


most in a whisper, “I am so happy, so happy,” her 
voice sinking so low as to be almost inaudible. They 
could only know what she said by the movements 
of her lips. Then taking His hand between her 
palms, she murmured softly and low, “I am so 
happy,” and falling on her knees, raising her glori- 
fied face on His, said, “I thank Thee, I thank 
Thee,” then bowed her head as if overcome with 
pure joy. Then thinking of her friend, rose to her 
feet, took up the broken alabaster box, raised His 
dear hand to her lips, kissed it and went out. 


33 


CHAPTER X. 


THE MEETING. 

But just as she was going out at the door some 
one touched her. She looked up to see who it was. 
She saw standing before her her old time lover, 
radiant happiness shining in his eyes. She took his 
hand and said, “Come, I must go tell her.” So 
hand in hand they walked on. After a while she 
asked him, “Were you there?” “Yes,” he said, “I 
was there to dine with the Master, but did not eat, 
I was too much interested in you.” She asked, 
“Did you know me?” “Yes,” he answered, “I 
recognized you at once.” “And do you know all?” 
she asked. “No,” said he, “I know only what I saw 
there, but that is enough.” “You, then,” she said, 
“are one of His Disciples and can always be near 
Him and hear His blessed words. Oh ! no wonder 
you are so happy.” “Yes, yes,” he said, “I am 
wonderfully happy, for He has forgiven me my 
sins too, and now there is nothing more to ask for. 
Some time,” said he, “when we have more time 
and a more fitting place, I will tell you all. This,” 
said she, pointing to a handsome dwelling, “is where 
I am now living with the sweetest and best of old 
women. You cannot know all she has done for me. 
But come in and let me show her to you; she 
knows of you and will give you welcome.” So she 
opened the great door in the wall that opened into 
the court of the great dwelling. She gave him a 
seat, told him to wait, that she would not be gone 
34 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


long. She found her friend and told her all that 
had happened to her since she had left. How Jesus 
had forgiven her sins, and, oh! how sweet it was 
to live now. Then she told of the meeting with 
her lover as she was coming to tell her, and that he 
was now in the court to meet her, her best of 
friends. She took her old hand and kissed it time 
and again, saying, “All this happiness I owe to 
you.” The older one stooped and* kissing her brow, 
said in a voice trembling with joy, “And I thank 
God for us both, my dear. I will see your friend 
now, so come, let us go to him.” She led the young 
woman forth instead of being led by her, and when 
they reached the court she stretched out her hand 
with a glad and happy smile on her kind old face, 
said, “She has told me all, and I am glad to know 
you.” Seating herself, she motioned them to be 
seated, and said, “This is a blessed day and I thank 
God he has spared me to see it. And now, young 
man, will you tell me how you happened to be at 
Simon’s house just at such a time.” He answered, 
“It is a long story and needs time in telling. But 
for the present I can say I am one of His followers 
and was invited to dine along with the Master to- 
day.” “But,” said the younger woman, “you have 
not eaten, and we have not thought of that until 
now.” “And neither have you,” said the old wom- 
an, nor I, for I could not eat until you came back, 
for I felt like great things would happen while you 
were away and could not sit down to eat, so I will 
order dinner and we will all eat it together.” She 
went out and soon returned to them, saying, “Come 
and eat.” So they repaired to the large dining room 
where a bountiful repast was spread. Two of that 
company ate very little for their hearts were too 
full and were glad when the meal was finished. 
35 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


They then returned to the court, and when they 
were seated, the older woman, her face beaming 
with the pure light that comes from a good heart 
filled with good deeds, said, “Now tell us your 
story.” 

The young woman had seated herself low at her 
old friend’s feet, and both listened to the story, as 
has already been told on these pages. How he had 
gone away after seeing her in that shameless com- 
panionship and seemingly enjoying herself, while 
his own heart seemed breaking for his own best 
love. She sat with her head bent over her old 
friend’s knee while he related all his wanderings. 
Softly she was weeping ; hearing all he said, scarce- 
ly conscious that she was crying. She saw his life 
as he told it as plainly as if it had been her own, 
and the bitter feeling came back to her that it was 
her own silly self that had caused him so much 
suffering. 

But when he began to tell of his knowledge of 
Christ, of seeing Him being baptized by John in 
Jordan, and of John’s ministry, she became in- 
tensely interested, and was on the alert to hear all 
concerning Christ. Even that name had power to 
make her forget all else besides. And when he 
told of his enemy being let down through the roof 
and of his awful plight, and how terribly changed 
he was, that even he could only pity him, and how 
he thought to himself his wrongs had been avenged 
even more than he could have asked, and when he 
told of Christ forgiving this man’s sins, and of 
his own conversion later, then they understood 
that glad, happy light, that was never on land or 
sea, that irradiated his countenance and took away 
all signs of sorrowful days he had passed through. 
“And what I have seen to-day,” he said, “has filled 
36 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


my cup of joy to overflowing. Life is new to me 
again and please God I intend to live as the Blessed 
Jesus has taught me how. ,, And the older woman 
answered with a fervent “Amen, and may God 
grant you many days of happiness, my Son,” and 
said all that Jesus was doing and had done could 
not be told, that His was a life filled every moment, 
with good deeds and works in many, many ways.” 
Afterwards she told them she was old and needed 
rest and would leave them to entertain themselves. 
So when the young woman had seen her old friend 
comfortably resting, she went back to her lover, 
and out in the cool evening air they talked of many 
things. He of the people of their old home, of 
the old Father she had left, who had grieved much 
in a quiet, silent way, but had gone on about the 
cares of home, keeping to himself his sorrow. That 
no one ever heard him mention her name, that he 
knew of her whereabouts for a while, anyway. But 
now the old man was getting more feeble every 
day. Then he told her of the loss of his own pa- 
rents while he was away from home, though the 
news of their illness had reached him in time to be 
with them at the end, and buried them one after 
the other. Then felt that his cup of sorrow was in- 
deed full and that he had no more to live for. He 
had rambled the country over, seeking peace and 
finding none. Then she fell on her knees and 
begged forgiveness of him for all the sorrow she 
had given him, and told him in trembling voice that 
she had always hated the life she was forced to lead 
after she had been blindly led into it. But she was 
so wrapped about by the shame and degradation, 
that she was powerless to help herself. Then told 
him how low she had sunken, when that day she 
had been dragged before Jesus, and of all the hor- 
37 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


rors of that exposition and of all that was said and 
done that day, and of all the gentle kindness her 
great benefactress had shown her. That she had 
sunken so low that she was unworthy of his com- 
passion. But to forgive her and then go away and 
leave her to try and do all that was in her power 
to repay the one person on earth who had tried 
to lift her up from that terrible life she had led, and 
help her to keep in the right, after Jesus had said 
unto her “Go and sin no more.” Then she said, “I 
felt it possible to pull away from that hateful life 
and live for good in some way.” She had raised 
herself now, and looking but not really seeing his 
face, but seemed to be looking back on the time that 
had passed since that day, and recounted all the 
numberless kindnesses and tender care that had been 
hers since coming into this house, and now “yours 
and my father’s forgiveness is all I crave. He 
would not see me at all I am afraid, but Oh, can 
you forgive me, who has caused you so much sor- 
row and trouble?” He took her hands in his and 
said, “Yes, I have already forgiven you all. For 
who is without sin save Jesus who freely forgave 
me my own sin, and you have suffered even more 
than I. He raised her to his bosom and praised 
and thanked God aloud for her restoration. And 
a peace fell on them they had never dreamed of 
before. Their old friend came out now and found 
them thus. But her entrance aroused them to the 
sense of the lateness of the hour, and she raised 
herself from her lover’s embrace and looking at her 
old friend said simply: “He, too, has forgiven me, 
and Oh! it is so sweet to be free.” Her face, a 
book in itself, telling all that was in her glowing yet 
peacefully quiet heart. And he, looking on her, 
thought, “If her old father could see her, he, too, 
38 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


would forgive all/' Going forward and taking the 
old woman by the hand, thanked her from the 
depths of his honest, manly heart for all she had 
done for the woman he still loved despite all. He 
told them he would be going now, and bade them 
goodbye, but not before the sweet old woman told 
him with the light of a pure heart beaming in her 
face, “that he need not thank her. It was enough 
that so precious a one was saved. Let us all thank 
God.” Then he said “May God bless you as you 
deserve to be blest. Goodbye.” Then turning to the 
young woman, he stooped and kissed her brow say- 
ing, “I will come again in a little while,” and went 
his way. And after he had gone the young woman 
said : “It is late, but I want to tell you more of my 
experience than I had time to tell to-day before you 
met him.” So they sat down again and she recount- 
ed word for word, just as she had heard and how 
she had felt on entering the room where Jesus sat, 
and how unworthy she had felt to touch even His 
dear feet, and of how she wept and wet His feet 
with her tears and she said, I could not even pour 
the ointment on His head, I felt so unworthy. The 
old woman told her “no doubt it was the right 
thing to do, and had a better effect than if she had 
used it on His head, and Jesus,” she said, “under- 
stood, dear. So it was well, and now let us go to 
bed. So they separated for the night. The older 
woman with a kiss and “God bless you.” The 
younger one with a heart too full bowed her head 
as if to receive the blessing, as well as to ask 
one for her friend, too, went to her room and then 
poured out all that was in her heart to God, thank- 
ing Him, the Giver of all good, for all the things 
that had so blest her life that day. Then she went 
to her bed, and slept the pure dreamless sleep of a 
healthful little child. 


39 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE REUNION. 

In a few days her lover came back to her, bring- 
ing the news that her father wanted her to come 
home again. So she parted from her dear old 
friend and went away with her old, old lover, who 
was a new one, too, and to go to her own, own 
father’s house, and when they were nearing the old 
town and home where she had spent her happy 
girlhood days, and where all knew of her shame 
and disgrace it was so hard to hold her head up 
while she walked through the streets to her old 
home, although she felt no guilt now. The blessed 
words of Jesus had washed that all away, yet she 
did not hold up her head but walked along the old 
familiar by-ways to her father’s gate with bowed 
head, guided by her lover’s hand, who talked to 
her quietly of her father and his feeble state, try- 
ing in that way to make it easier for her, for he 
knew what a trial she had to undergo, and his 
heart ached for her. When they reached her fath- 
er’s door her courage failed her entirely. She fal- 
tered, “Oh, I cannot go in.” But her lover took 
her gently by the hand saying, “Come, he knows 
all. I have told him.” So she entered, led by the 
lover she had so wronged years ago. Her old 
father was seated near the fire, for he was indeed 
feeble now. 

When she saw him so old and enfeebled as he 
was, all the old childish love for him rushed to her 
40 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


heart, and she ran to him, saying, “Father can you 
forgive me, too, as the others have done? I know 
I am not worthy to take the old place in your love 
back, but let me be as a servant and try to do you 
as much good as I have done you wrong. Let me 
wait on you, care for you, take a servant’s place 
who has done the most for you all these years, 
while I have so cruelly neglected you.” But he 
placed his trembling, feeble hands on her bowed 
head, and looking up said: “Oh, God in Heaven, 
bless my child for she was more sinned against than 
sinning, and she hath suffered. Arise my child for 
I have forgiven you long before you came. Come, 
lay your head on my shoulder, that I may know you 
love me still.” So she raised herself and falling 
into his outstretched arms, feeble as they were, laid 
her head on his shoulder, in the old, familiar way, 
so long forgotten in childhood days, and cried as 
she had never done in all her days of sorrow and 
trouble. Ever and anon his old hand would ten- 
derly stroke her hair as of yore, saying not one 
word, only resting his chin on her head, and letting 
his own silent tears dampen her still golden hair. 
When her weeping had spent itself, she raised up 
and looked on his face and said with voice still 
husky, and lips trembling, “My dear old father, 
how good it is to be home again, and here I am, 
tiring you the first thing, and now let me do some- 
thing for your comfort. 

“Have you had your dinner? Let me bring it 
to you. How selfish I have been.” So she flut- 
tered about the room, dusting and rearranging 
things, and once in a while she would run back to 
him, kiss his white hair, pat his face and say pome 
endearing word to him. Then when his dinner 
came in she arranged it near him and fixed every- 
4i 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


thing so he could easily reach it. She said to her 
lover, “Come, and we will eat, too,” so they went 
into the dining-room where dinner was served, but 
she ate little, but doing the honors at the table as 
though nothing unusual had filled in the blank of 
all these past years, and when they had finished 
eating, and went back to the old father, he, too, had 
eaten very little. She said, “Why, Daddie, you have 
not eaten anything, this won’t do; you must get 
strong and well now.” He smiled and said, “I will 
now that I have you back to help me.” She cleared 
away the things and brought a low stool and placed 
it close to him, seated herself there, her lover on 
the other side of the father. They did not talk of 
the sorrowful past. It would blight their happy 
reunion, and they each knew what the life of the 
other had been in the intermission. Past griefs 
had no place in their lives now. So each sat with 
one accord in happy, blissful silence. The old man 
laid one hand on his daughter’s head and the other 
on the young man’s shoulder and said, “Now chil- 
dren, I will not be here much longer. I am old and 
feeble and feel the weight of years, and it would 
please me well to know you two are together when 
I go, and I would love to see you both united in 
marriage ere I go to the grave.” “But, father, that 
cannot be. It is all right for him to forgive me 
and forget the past, but marry such as I? No, he 
cannot and must not do that.” “Well, daughter, 
this rests entirely with you, for this man, who is 
already more than a son to me, has expressed a de- 
sire to me to make you his wife and I don’t think 
you should stand in the way. But it is in your 
hands.” She arose to her feet and stood with 
clasped hands before her lover and asked (looking 
into his eyes), “Do you really wish this or is it 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


pity, a desire to shield me ? Are you willing to take 
me as I am, with all the ugly past hanging over 
my life? Take me for your wife? No,” she said, 
“you cannot do that, but I shall love you just the 
same.” “Yes, I want you for my own wife.” He 
had risen now. “I have been miserable long enough 
without you and if you will have me we will be 
married right away,” and putting his arms tenderly 
around her as if to protect her ever more, said: 
“Do you say be married soon?” “Yes,” she mur- 
mured “if you wish it, but it is more than I ever 
thought could be.” He then raised her face to his 
own and kissed her in her father’s presence. They 
then sat down and discussed their coming mar- 
riage. The father joining in, too, concerning it. 
There would be no great preparations, but just as 
quietly as could be within the bounds of the law. 

And in a very short while they were quietly mar- 
ried, their kind and reverend old friend being pres- 
ent as guest and witness. She had made a spe- 
cial visit to the little town “to look after her prot- 
ege and see that all was well,” she said. She had 
learned of the contemplated marriage, and gave her 
approval saying to him : “She will make you a good 
wife, and will do you good and not evil, all the days 
of your life.” Then the days, weeks and months 
which followed were happy ones to all of them. 
The old father was called Home to rest, and after 
he was laid away they continued to live in the old 
home which was hers now, as they lived in the 
peacefully happy days just gone by. 


43 


CHAPTER XII. 


A SURPRISE AND FINALE. 

Keeping on in the even tenor of their way, the 
same as when he was with them, only they missed 
his quiet presence, they lived a great deal to 
themselves. No children ever came to brighten 
their home. They did good to all who came in 
their way, and after awhile won the real esteem and 
respect of all around them, and especially those in 
the little village in which they lived. These, too, who 
had at first held their skirts aside when she passed 
them on the street, or elsewhere and before they 
had realized the complete restoration that had taken 
place in her. There was real and true sorrow in 
their little home when they learned that Jesus had 
been crucified. But they knew in themselves from 
personal reasons that the good He had done would 
live long after. They heard, too, of His Resur- 
rection and Ascension and of all the Disciples 
were doing in His name, and not only believed 
these things to be true, but knew it to be possible. 
One day long after they went into the city of 
Jerusalem on business, and in going down one of 
the streets, saw a great quiet homelike place, and 
as they drew near saw “Woman's Home" in great 
white letters over the arched gateway, and in mak- 
ing inquiry later on found the place to have been 
established by an old childless woman living in 
Capernaum together with a man, whom they said 
had lived a sinful and Godless life, and had been 
44 


THE DEAD QUICKENED 


infirm with palsy but had been miraculously healed 
by Jesus, and had quit all his evil ways, and had 
in this way lived to undo some of the wrong he had 
done in the past. And their informer told them 
he would go about the city finding some old, ugly 
hag of a woman, who had spent long evil years in 
sin and wickedness and should suffer; he would 
send them to this nice, clean home, have them 
clothed in nice clean clothing and even doctored if 
need be. That the old lady had helped him do all 
this while she lived, and when she died left a large 
amount of money to be used in that way. They not 
only found that this man was their one-time great- 
est enemy, but found his “help-meet” in this rescue 
work was their truest and best friend. And these 
were some of the seed the Lord had sown in the 
hearts of some men and women that had and was 
still yielding an hundredfold. And as these two 
went back to their own home they thought of all 
these things and praised God in their hearts for 
sending His Son, who had so lighted their path- 
way and made their lives a bright one, when be- 
fore His coming all was so dark to them. They re- 
solved to do even more than they had hitherto 
done, to make their own little world brighter and 
for His sake. Years after when they died, loved 
and revered by all around them, and in a good old 
age, they left their little home to the cause they 
discovered that day in Jerusalem, the home es- 
tablished by the two people on earth whom they 
two had most cause to remember, one for the 
evil he had done them, the other for the good works 
toward them. But all for Jesus’ sake. 

[the end.] 


45 


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